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The Story of My Dog and Why You Should Care
The Story of My Dog and Why You Should CareIt all began when I was 11 years old. That day, my mom was taking us (the kids) to Arnold's Hey and Grain, a food store for animals. As we were approaching the door, something caught my eye: a little dog (4 months old). The puppy was situated in a cage and was lying down on his tubby little belly. He looked at me with BIG, HUGE, BUG-eyes and whimpered. He looked so sad'so lonely'so isolated. I got down on my hands and knees and said to him, "Hey there, little puppy. You sure look lonely." Then the dog looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Well duh. I'm stuck in this freakin' cage sleeping in my own business and eating nasty doggy kibble. How about getting me outa here, you mental midget'" I replied with, "Sure thing, dude. I'll buy you or something like that." He rolled his bug eyes at me and stated, "You humans are all the same'" I smirked.
Well, a few minutes after my encounter, my mom walked out of the store with the rest of the brats. She noticed I was looking at the dog and commented about how cute he was. Then I remembered how much I wanted a dog and asked her if I could buy this one (as if I bought a puppy every day). To my astonishment, she said, "Maybe."
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She looked in to the matter a little more and she decided to ask my dad whether or not we could get a dog. Again to my astonishment, he said, "Maybe." Before I could purchase my furry friend, he made me promise him that I would feed him, brush him, walk him, burp him, change his diaper etc'.
Of course I agreed not realizing the mess I got my self into. "Yeah whatever." I said, "I'll feed him, brush him, walk him, burp him, and change his diaper etc'"
So, we bought the little punk. It would take a day before we could actually pick him up. When that day came, I was more then ready to feed him, brush him, walk him, burp him, and change his diapers! When we got him to the car, he completely freaked out (I guess he was never in a car before). He jumped over the seats, he ran between our legs, he barked at oncoming cars, he screamed, he shouted, and he used words I would never use on this blog. When I asked him why he executed such juvenile behavior, he replied with, "Because I'm a dog, stupid. Plus I was told it's great therapy - you should try it some time." I shrugged and told him I had given that practice up a week ago.
It was really difficult to find a name for this dog, so I went through the lists of names common to a dog. "Zip, Butch, Rover, Cretan'" I thought to myself. All those names seemed too'.stupid. So I named him "Richard." He loved it.
As the months went by, he seemed to grow larger, more intelligent, but he never did lose his puppy-like features. Taking him on walks was moderately easy, except for one thing: Once he saw a person or location he wished to approach, he would tug and pull and coke himself until he would almost pass out. Once the animal rights people noticed this, they stated that this was total animal abuse and demanded they take possession of my dog - at least until they could find a suitable owner. Of course I told them I would do nothing of the sort. They did not like my little reply so we got in a gunfight and I won. He he, those losers'
One month before he turned 1, he mysteriously developed the bad habit of chasing cars (an activity that is commonly executed by dogs). After a few weeks of having my arm pulled off, my mom and I decided that we needed to take some serious action. But before we started beating the living ......
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